


Fade-out

by tinygreyghost



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:21:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinygreyghost/pseuds/tinygreyghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt requesting maximum angst on the DA Kink Meme. Set post-game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fade-out

While the rest of Skyhold is being rebuilt and renovated, Iron Bull keeps the broken down bedroom he co-opted as his own in pretty much the state he found it. There’s a painting of an old human guy peering in perpetual distaste at the bed, green bindwind creeping up the walls, and wide slits in the rotten wooden rafters where the morning sunlight comes in and gives the whole room a warm, rosy glow. 

The bed is good and solid, and, with Lavellan tucked under his arm, sleepy and satisfied, there is nowhere Iron Bull has ever been more comfortable. 

Groaning, he stretches languorously on the sheets. His muscles throb with the pleasurable ache of being well-used last night. He glances down at Lavellan, and grins when he sees him looking back at him. 

“Morning, Kadan.” 

“Morning, Bull,” says Lavellan. His wide, oh-so pretty eyes are curiously solemn, and his gaze travels over Bull’s face intently. 

“Obviously didn’t do a good enough job of wearing you out last night if you can still think so hard this morning,” says Bull. He keeps his tone light. “Need me to try again?” 

He ducks his head, putting his mouth to Lavellan’s ear, and whispers, “I promise you, Kadan, I’ll fuck this big cock of mine so deep into your sweet little ass there won’t be room left in you for so much as a single thought.” 

He takes a moment to suck on the delicate point of Lavellan’s ear, and is gratified by the small, needy buck of Lavellan’s hips, his hissed intake of breath. 

Lavellan claws his fingers into Bull’s bicep and says, “Bull, no.” His voice is choked with desire, and it’s not _katoh_ , so Bull could easily override his protests, could manhandle that slender, powerful body, made of nothing but magic and elfblood, could put it under him on the bed and press it down into the mattress, screw Lavellan’s brains out until he’d made good on his promise -

But he stops. 

Instead, he rolls over onto his side to be able to meet Lavellan’s eyes. 

“What is it? Corypheus trying for third time lucky? Another demon-spewing butthole in the sky? ‘Cause if so, I’m not saying that wouldn’t be a real pain in the ass, but if we’ve fixed it once, we can fix it again.”

Lavellan doesn’t answer at once. He presses a soft, chaste kiss to the centre of Bull’s chest, and, even now, Bull is bewildered by how much the faintest brush of Lavellan’s lips to his skin can affect him. 

“It’s not over,” says Lavellan. 

Of course it’s not. There are Venatori, Red Templars, demons, a whole fucking tonne of problems still to fix. Moreover, the Inquisition is all that stands between several lands and their rapid descent into chaos. 

This is not news, so Bull gives a one shoulder shrug and says, “And?“

Lavellan wets his lips, lowers his eyes: uncharacteristically careful. He’s never had to be careful around Bull, never. The hairs prickle on the back of Bull’s neck. Only Ben-Hassrath training keeps his lazy demeanour in place. 

“You breaking up with me, boss?” Bull says. His tone says it’s a joke, but he watches Lavellan closely for his response, waiting for the first reflexive tell in his body language to reassure him. 

His chest feels suddenly hollow. 

“I love you. More than anything,” says Lavellan. But he still won’t meet Bull’s eyes. 

“That’s not a ‘no’,” says Bull. 

“Listen,” says Lavellan. 

He sits up cross-legged and facing Bull. His fingers curl like claws around the edge of the sheet. Even in a moment like now, Bull can’t help but gaze at the curve of Lavellan’s bare shoulder, the elegant dip of his collarbone. 

“The Veil still isn’t stable,” Lavellan says. “It will continue to tear, and there will be more rifts, and it will just keep getting worse and worse.”

“But you can close the rifts with the thing on your hand, right?” 

Again, Lavellan drops his gaze. He takes a deep breath, and Bull watches the rise and fall of his chest, sees the rosy marks his own mouth has left on Lavellan’s skin. 

“It’s my hand that’s causing it,” says Lavellan. He swallows, turns his hand palm up to Bull. “The Anchor belongs in the Fade, and, it can’t be destroyed, and, so long as it’s here, the Veil can’t settle.”

That’s when Bull realises what Lavellan is saying. He’s faced pretty much every fucking horrible thing Thedas has to offer, but it’s now that his blood runs cold and the bottom drops out of his stomach. 

Instinctively, he edges forward on the bed, closing the distance between his body and Lavellan’s. He catches Lavellan’s wrist in his hand, his fingers easily encircling it. He feels the insistent thrum of Lavellan’s pulse, the heat beneath his smooth skin. He leans in closer, close enough to kiss Lavellan’s mouth but stops just short. 

“This is crazy-talk, kadan. This is not happening.” His voice is a low whisper, and sounds like desperation even to his own ears. 

But Lavellan, who doesn’t weigh so much as his axe, who looks so fragile Bull could break his bones between finger and thumb, is unmoved. He’s also been deceptive that way: this tiny, pretty bastard has stared down dragons and demons. 

“It has to,” says Lavellan. “I’ve studied this. I’ve searched for other options. But there aren’t any.”

He’s not entirely unmoved, Bull realises. His eyes shine wet, there’s a flush in his cheeks, but the set of his jaw is unmistakeable. 

Bull shakes his head stubbornly. “No. This is fucking insane! No, there’ll be another way. I’m not going to let you just fucking stroll off into the Maker-damned Fade!” 

His heart is beating too hard. His body, recognising panic, is braced to _do something about it_. But he can’t, because Lavellan just sits there on the bed next to him, small and sad and not budging.

Bull throws his hands up. “Here’s what we’ll fucking do,” he says, breathing too heavily. “Your hand’s the problem? We’ll fucking slice it off. Slice it off. I manage with one eye, you’ll manage with one hand. We’ll toss the fucking thing into the Fade and-“ 

“We’ll toss it through a rift we’ll have no means of closing,” Lavellan finishes for him tonelessly. 

He closes his eyes, presses his forehead to Bull’s broad chest, and Bull reacts at once to close his arms around him. Lavellan’s body is lost against Bull’s, devoured by his far greater mass, but Bull can feel the play of his muscle and realises that Lavellan’s shaking. Just a fine, thready trembling. 

“I don’t want to leave you, kadan. I wanted to stay with you forever.” Lavellan’s voice is muffled against Bull’s chest, but Bull hears him. There’s a dampness on his skin, and he knows that it’s Lavellan’s tears. 

It feels like a moment of sudden stillness settles on the room. The motes of dust that float in the shafts of sunlight achieve a sudden clarity. Bull’s heart steadies at once. 

“Then I’m going with you,” he says. 

His voice is so level. He feels no hesitation or uncertainty. He will dearly miss Krem, and his Chargers, and his friends within the Inquisition, but he feels no pang at leaving them behind. Likewise, he feels no great terror of the Fade. The decision is simple: Lavellan, or no Lavellan.

Lavellan has stopped shaking. His lips move against Bull’s body as he gathers his words. 

“You can’t,” he says, but Bull shakes his head, every bit as stubborn. 

“You think I’m going to let you go without me? How the hell could I? I could as easily tear my own heart out.” 

He kisses the top of Lavellan’s head, strokes his hand down his spine, letting his fingertip travel between each vertebra. 

“It’ll be okay, kadan,” he murmurs. “You’ll see. We’ll be together.”

Everything is strangely at peace, within him and without. He sits on the bed, holding Lavellan, and rocking him gently, and, in the distance, he can hear Skyhold waking up around them. 

He gently takes hold of Lavellan’s shoulders and moves him backwards, so he can see his face. 

“I’ll need some time to speak to Krem. I’d.. er, I’d like to tell him before the others know, figure some things out. How long have we got left here?”

Lavellan only smiles. 

He pushes up onto his knees to reach Bull and kisses him, slowly, lingeringly, and Bull puts his arm around his waist and lets him. It’s the kind of kiss that should lead to mindblowing, life-and-love affirming fucking. Bull’s hand is at the small of Lavellan’s back, his other hand cupping the back of his head, fingers curved around the exquisite line of his skull. And Lavellan just keeps pushing forward, crawling into Bull’s lap, pressing his breastbone to Bull’s. 

But the kiss tastes of tears. 

“Kadan,” Lavellan whispers. “My heart.” His hand snakes down Bull’s chest to touch the dragon tooth pendant. “I could never let you do this for me.” 

Bull grins, nips Lavellan’s bottom lip. He doesn’t care what Lavellan’s saying. He wants to fuck. He wants to show Lavellan how fucking much he loves him, how impossible it would be to live without him. 

He rolls Lavellan over onto his back in the sheets, props himself up on his elbows – one either side of Lavellan’s head – and looms over him.

“I’m not letting you go, boss. Get used to it.” 

Lavellan touches a hand to his cheek, and says, “I’ve already gone, Bull.” 

Bull pauses midway in trying to catch Lavellan’s fingers in his mouth. He frowns, starts shaking his head, but before he can get words out, Lavellan says, “I knew you’d try to stop me, or, worse, come into the Fade with me. And I couldn’t let that happen to you. I love you too much. I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t understand,” Bull insists. 

“This is a dream. I wanted to say goodbye, before I…” His face is briefly the wrong shape. A tear rolls down his cheek. “Before the Anchor was destroyed.” 

Bull clutches him close, so hard and so tight it must hurt, but Lavellan clings back every bit as hard. He keeps whispering _I’m sorry, I’m sorry_ into Bull’s skin, and then, _I love you, always._

Bull rears up, to look him in the eyes again – 

And then he wakes, alone in the darkness.


End file.
